


hungover & i miss u

by TheTempShip



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angsty Shikamaru, But don't worry they get back together in the end, F/M, Shika's a mess, ShikaTema, Shikamaru is OOC here, Strong Female Characters, break ups, lol Temari doesn't tolerate that crap like Kishimoto thinks she would, there is some language beware, wee bit of sexism and traditional gender roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTempShip/pseuds/TheTempShip
Summary: Shikamaru is definitely hungover and he is definitely missing her, but what else is new.
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	hungover & i miss u

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the end is a bit 'eh', this has been festering in a word doc for about a month and I just wanted to finish it so it might feel a tad bit rushed.  
> Based off of the song "hungover & i miss u" by gnash

If the combination of the heavy bass and the alcohol in his hand didn’t get him out of his own head, Shikamaru was fucked.

Was he fucked regardless? Oh yeah. He thought _anyone_ a month out of a relationship and still not able to go to their favorite bar because they were sulking was fucked. And no matter how hard he tried to un-fuck himself up, it all seemed to be a moot point. Because having tried or not, he was still out with his friends and he still wasn’t feeling the buzz and he was still lying about his state of unfuckedup-ness to their faces.

His friends were starting to notice, too.

Shikamaru winced when a sudden, recognizably loud voice appeared at his right ear, paired quickly with a blond head in his line of vision. “Man, this place is the best – I’m not sure why we ever go other places, it’s just not the same!” Naruto’s eyes were bright and his smile was goofy as he surveyed the interior of the club, but every other aspect of his body language indicated he had something to say.

Now, Shikamaru wouldn’t have expected _Naruto_ of all people to have caught on that they’d been hunting for new stomping grounds at Shikamaru’s request _because_ of the very fact that they weren’t the same. Apparently, he was doing much worse of an acting job than he had thought.

Shikamaru sniffed and glanced around the room. “You’re right, it is the best,” he said as he swallowed another swig of his drink, wincing at how unenthusiastic he sounded even to his own ears. So his acting was _a lot_ worse than he had thought.

He looked over at Naruto’s silence only to have his arm backhanded and a finger pointed at him accusingly. He made a sound of protest at the treatment and huffed when Naruto growled out, “I knew it, you’re still sulking.”

Shikamaru opened his mouth to deny it but Naruto ignored him. “Come on, Shikamaru, let go!” His arm swept out to motion to the club. “You got lucky here once, who’s to say it can’t happen again? I thought you said you were over her _for sure_ , like, two weeks ago.”

The phrase ‘lightning never strikes the same place twice’ came to mind, but Shikamaru just shrugged and made a noncommittal noise. “I am, _for sure_ , I’m just…reminiscing. Not sulking, idiot.”

 _Lies, lies, all of it lies_.

And apparently Shikamaru wasn’t the only one who knew it. “Yeah right. And I’m supposed to believe that all the good times we had here are making you look so, so…glum.” Shikamaru shifted at the half-truth of the statement and the silence was evidently all Naruto needed as confirmation. “We can ditch and go somewhere else if you think you’ll have more fun. That’s the whole idea of going out, you know. Just, don’t let her ruin your night when she’s not even here, man. She’s just a girl. And a scary one at that.”

Shikamaru let out a small smirk because she _was_ scary. But Naruto was wrong about the other thing: she wasn’t just a girl. But besides that, he was right. Temari wasn’t here and she wasn’t going to show up and his friends certainly didn’t deserve all of his gloom.

“Nah,” Shikamaru said, raising his drink in a gesture and turning to the rest of their friends, “you’re right, we aren’t gonna find good alcohol for a better price anywhere else, and I think I might need a lot of good alcohol.” A cheer rose up as he downed the rest of his drink and took the next one that was offered to him, throwing himself into the social setting.

He engaged himself in small conversation and eventually found himself standing with Chouji as their group started to migrate to the dance floor in groups and pairs.

“Place brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

It was a careful question. Chouji knew the situation, knew that no matter how many times he denied it, Shikamaru wasn’t over her. And he probably also knew that left to his own devices, Shikamaru would essentially drown himself going over what-if and could-be scenarios which was why he was here and not tearing up the dance floor with Karui.

“Yeah,” he said, rousing from his seat, not about to spoil both of their nights, “but maybe it’s time to make some new ones.” He didn’t have to look over to know that Chouji would be lifting his eyebrows in duel surprise and skepticism, no doubt debating if the sudden change in heart was actually coming from his heart or if it was the doing of the alcohol. He suspected the latter.

But in the end, he shrugged and slapped a heavy hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder. “All right, Shikamaru is back in the game!” He commemorated the moment with a shot and then pushed a still grimacing Shikamaru into the wave of bodies that took up the floor, immediately being swept away into the current the music was pulling everyone into.

After that, Shikamaru drank more, laughed more, talked more, danced more. The faces of his friends shifted with the faces of the bartender and the girls he spent a song with to create something reminiscent of a movie collage, complete with the multicolored lights and the distant music and the insistent pang in his chest that was trying to tell him that something was _wrong, wrong, wrong_.

Wrong like how the alcohol didn’t taste like her drink he would steal sips of because he was too belligerent to order his own and wrong like how the bodies under his fingers weren’t the one he had mapped time after time until he knew every backroad and shortcut like they were his own.

Wrong because she wasn’t here and he missed her. And _fuck_ , did he miss her.

…

He came to in his bed with no recollection of how he got there. Someone had taken off his shoes, but he was relieved to find he was still in his clothes from the night before.

Shikamaru rubbed his face and groaned into the otherwise empty apartment, rolling over to grope for his phone and check the time. His stomach protested the movement and he was sincerely regretting his decision not to drink any water, but the ache was forgotten instantaneously when he caught sight of the name on the text that sat on his lock screen.

_Temari Kaze – 3:23 am_

He scrambled to sit up and unlock the piece of technology, punching in his passcode and listening to his heart beat in his ears. But once he was staring at the last message in the chat that appeared underneath her name when the app popped up, he became dizzy with how fast his heart dropped from his throat to his stomach.

 _Message failed to send_.

He slowly pressed his finger to the chat and it opened up to a regrettably blank screen, save for the failed message and the notification. In a moment of blind rage, he’d deleted their conversations the day she broke up with him; he’d been cursing himself ever since because he didn’t _want_ to forget all the stupid things they’d talked about.

But that didn’t matter at the moment because Shikamaru couldn’t really bring himself to feel anything as he deciphered his mistake-riddled message.

_Hey, just wanted to let you know you’ve ruined my life but I’m sure you already knew that. Went out to our bar and didn’t think I’d miss you so badly. Except why should last night be any different from any other night that I wish I could just come over and apologize for being the biggest fuckin asshole ever. I miss you and I need you and I’m sorry and I hate myself for not telling you sooner. I just want to be with you again._

Shikamaru stared at the screen until it went dark. He felt sick and it wasn’t from the hangover, so he huffed and laid back down, rolling to his stomach so that he could stuff his head into his pillow before facing his phone again. He didn’t even look at the message again before he deleted any evidence that it had ever existed in the first place.

Her name at the top of his conversations would have been torture enough, but for him to keep it when its only contents were the hard, blubbering truths he’d been trying to stave off would have been incomprehensibly pathetic.

He thought back to the past night and vaguely remembered taking a shot named “Truth Serum” and wondered what exactly it was made of for him to have manifested those words in a text and sent them to Temari.

His groan was muffled as he shoved his face back into the mattress, feeling the warmth from his breath fanning back over him. What made him think that getting drunk would actually change anything? It had been like this since she’d walked away and time hadn’t been healing _shit_ for all everyone seemed to think it did. The cesspool of anger and regret and humiliation and grief sure didn’t drain as the weeks of being apart counted up; in fact, it just swirled wider and deeper and leeched off of every good thing he had going for him.

And the sad thing was, he didn’t even _want_ to pine. He didn’t want to play the part of the heartbroken sap. He didn’t want to linger because he knew all it would accomplish would be to incur some kind of horrifyingly personal guilt because a genius _thinks_ about these outcomes and he _plans_ for them so that he didn’t end up hungover and depressed and alone in his bed.

 _Some genius you are_.

It didn’t occur to him that he hadn’t actually checked the time until he was in his kitchen, drinking a tall glass of water and picking at the leftover take-out he had dragged out of his fridge.

 _12:46_ _pm_.

Luckily, in the mood he was in, Shikamaru didn’t have anything to do or anyone to see, and it only took a couple of hours for his body to decide last night’s coma hadn’t been enough and prompted him to take a nap.

Except a nap evidently wasn’t in the card for him because he woke up a half an hour later to an obscene rhythmic tapping on the wall and the faintest wisps of moans through the vent. As if he needed a reminder that sex with another person existed after a night of missing the last girl he’d been with. _And_ they disrupted his nap.

It made him unreasonably angry – that some stranger on the other side of the wall was enjoying someone’s company and felt the need to rub it in his face the fact Shikamaru didn’t have that anymore and that _she_ could be out there doing the same thing. Even if he knew that obviously wasn’t their objective, it still made that cesspool of volatile heartache rise up in protest.

He lifted his fist with the intention of banging on the wall right back, but as his hand pulled back behind his head, it fell to his side and all the fight left him. It left because this wasn’t a new thing and normally it wouldn’t bother him because he didn’t care about someone else when he had his own warm body in arms. And if he didn’t, he had his earphones and a place to go when he didn’t want to be in his.

He was just hungover and still missing her and very aware of what he didn’t have anymore. It was that unwelcome awareness that found him staring at the TV, three bottles deep into whatever alcohol he could scrounge up from the corners of his apartment and not paying any attention to what was playing on the screen. If someone told him he had a problem at that moment, there was no reasonable way he could tell them they were wrong.

_I miss you and I need you and I hate myself for not telling you sooner._

The words ran circles in his brain and the hand that wasn’t wrapped around the bottle getting him drunk was resting securely on his phone. No one was here to stop him. And even if they had been, he’d never needed to apologize to someone more and maybe that would be the closure he needed.

He tried to ignore the small part of him hoping that if he reached out to her and told her he missed her, he’d find out that she’d been feeling the same. That maybe he wasn’t suffering alone. He drained the rest of his bottle and started typing, adopting the same “fuck-it-all” attitude that had driven him to do the same the night before, even now knowing what he might think of it when he was sober.

The message sent this time. There was no going back and Shikamaru couldn’t do anything but stare at the tiny little confirmation saying that it had been delivered, desperately clinging to the hope it would change and she would respond.

Minutes passed and his heart sagged a little, even though his rational mind insisted it was normal for someone to take a little time to respond; maybe she was doing something that didn’t involve her phone or that perhaps she was just surprised that her ex-boyfriend was obviously drunk-texting her at 6 pm on a Saturday evening.

45 minutes and another drink had come and gone before he gave up on staring at the device and instead cleaned up the area around him, clearing away the evidence of his misery because it obviously wasn’t doing him any favors. Afterwards, he tossed his phone on his bed – perhaps with a bit more force than necessary – and took a long shower, hoping to wash off any remnants of his day.

Shikamaru tried to ignore the phone when he got back to his room, he did. But its siren call was directly linked to hers, and everyone knew he was helpless when it came to her. There was no resisting, there was no regret, there was no hesitation because he dove overboard willingly so that she could devour him.

It was this thought that had Shikamaru shaking his head, muttering, “What the fuck am I thinking? I’m waxing poetry in my head on a Saturday night alone in my apartment. I’m actually going insane.” He looked around the darkening room. It was too empty. And it made him feel empty too.

He picked up his phone again, knowing that there were a few contacts in there that might help with the onslaught of loneliness he was developing. Except when he got to his messaging app, he didn’t start a new message, but found himself staring at the message he had sent earlier, wondering if there was anything he could say to make her respond.

_I’m sorry, I miss you, I was an asshole and I hate myself, please let me see you again._

He had put the ball in her court, and it seemed like she was keeping it there. He was about to go back and text Chouji to see if he wanted to watch a movie or play some video games when his eyes widened at the sight of the fading ellipsis that signified her responding.

Shikamaru had never been so attentive to those three little dots in his life, nor had he ever felt this level of anticipation. It dragged on and on, for over 10 minutes as he sat there fixated on his phone and wondering if maybe she had accidentally hit a key and left the message.

But eventually the dots disappeared and Shikamaru swallowed, hoping and praying that a text box would appear.

And one did.

_That’s not a good idea._

He was out the door before he could think about a response because a third of their relationship had been based on bad decisions, so he figured he shouldn’t have to stop now.

But speaking of bad decisions, he also realized he hadn’t grabbed his wallet and the jacket he threw on was not up to par with the early spring chill of the night. That, paired with the fact that Temari lived on the other side of town, found Shikamaru sobering up with every shiver on his very long walk to try and salvage his relationship.

A relationship that technically was not intact and hadn’t been for weeks. Shikamaru came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

This was not the shared territory they had left behind. He couldn’t take the same liberties as he had before. He needed to change tactics because bad decisions didn’t always lead to good outcomes and he needed this one to result in a good outcome.

He took a step to the side of the path and drew out his phone.

_That’s not a no._

Unlike the last response, this time the indicator popped up right away.

_Yeah I know._

Shikamaru let out a sigh of relief. Plan Spontaneous was still a go now that he had some indication that she wanted this too and he wasn’t just being a selfish bastard again.

It ended up being just shy of an hour later when he stood in front of an apartment door with a lump the size of a baseball stuck in his throat and his whole body paralyzed with something akin to nerves.

Luckily, it seemed his muscles knew what to do and he knocked on the door, returning his hand to his pocket and anxiously bouncing, trying to hear any sort of footsteps inside.

He was evidently too focused on picking up those sounds, because when the door opened to a sock-footed Temari, Shikamaru tried to breathe and keep his eyes on her face instead of taking her all in like he wanted too.

She wore a neutral expression, so if she didn’t expect to see him, it didn’t show.

“I thought I said this would be a bad idea.”

Shikamaru huffed, only now realizing it came out in a cloud of vapor. The temperature must have been dropping steadily. “I only make good decisions when I’m sober. And I thought it wasn’t technically a no so I don’t think you really expected anything different.”

Temari searched his face. “You’re drunk?” He saw her jaw clench slightly.

“No,” he blurted out, “no, not anymore. I was when I texted you, but not anymore.”

Temari continued to stare at him, not letting him see anything she might be feeling. “Did you drive here?”

Shikamaru shook his head. “I needed the walk to sober up.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And I didn’t really plan it out beforehand. I kinda just left my place and made my way to you.” His face reddened when he realized how cheesy that sounded and the silence only magnified his embarrassment because he knew Temari wasn’t a big fan of empty, cliché statements.

Temari sighed, ignoring his blubbered statement. “It’s cold. Come inside before your nose freezes off.” She stepped out of the way and Shikamaru hesitated before stepping inside of the threshold, feeling the warmth take hold of him when Temari shut the door.

He stood there in the entryway, watching as she stared at the wall behind him. The silence was not like the ones they had when they were still together. It was tense and wrong and Shikamaru just wanted to hold Temari because she was trying so hard not to look uncomfortable and it was all his fault.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that,” she muttered. “Take off your shoes, we’re going to the living room.”

He quickly shed his footwear and followed her into the next room, settling on the couch next to her. “Kankuro and Gaara not here?”

She shook her head. “They’re out.”

Silence again.

Shikamaru bit the inside of his cheek and steeled himself. This wasn’t part of the plan. The plan went smoother, with more talking and more kissing and more of anything but this stupid, suffocating _silence_.

“I texted you last night too, you know. Didn’t send though.”

Temari studied him. “Were you drunk then too?” Shikamaru met her gaze sheepishly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, muttering ‘coward’ under her breath. “We were at the bar where we met. And you’re right, I am a coward.”

Shikamaru saw her gaze narrow at his declaration. “Stop trying to butter me up, Shikamaru. This is tough as it is and I don’t want to play games right now.”

He held his hands up. “I promise, I’m not trying to butter you up _or_ play games. I needed to apologize to you and whether you accept that is totally up to you.”

“Why are you acting so weird? Why are you here?” Temari’s voice raised and she pushed herself off of the couch. Almost immediately she shook her head and groaned into hands. “Fuck me, this was a bad idea,”

Shikamaru panicked. His plan was thrown out the window because at the moment, that’s where it seemed he was headed too. He stood up too and contemplated taking her hands but decided he didn’t want to be hit. “Listen, I’m just trying to be sincere and respect you–”

“But that’s just it, Shikamaru,” Temari said, throwing her hands out in front of her. “You’re not a sincere guy. You never were and it was your lack of respect that I broke up with you for. It’s been a month and you’re gonna tell me that was enough time for you to change your mind? Enough time for you to decide that I _am_ actually the type of woman you want to date and not a failure to the stupid gender because I’m not willing to be a fucking housewife someday?” She was seething again and Shikamaru winced at the bluntly-put details of the cause for their separation.

He was a serious douchebag.

“ _Yes_ ,” he said emphatically, enough so the emotion in his voice caught her attention. “I was being dumb. I was listening to my father’s voice in my head and that’s not an excuse, I know,” he clarified at the roll of her eyes. “In fact, I have no excuse. My parents were asking me if I was planning on proposing to you and for a second, I’ll admit – I got intimidated by how successful you’re becoming and that maybe you wouldn’t want to slow down for me.” Shikamaru cursed under his breath as she glared at him. That did not come out how he wanted it to.

“You said you had no excuse. But I’m hearing a lot of them.” Temari sat back down and Shikamaru took this as a tentatively good sign and lowered himself after her. “I never asked you not to have an excuse, though. I wanted a reason,” she huffed. “We’d been good, _happy_ , up until then. Do you know how much it hurt to hear you of all people show me so much spite and disrespect for wanting to be more than what people expect of me?”

Shikamaru looked at his hands in shame. “I could try to imagine but no, in the end, I don’t.”

“I just—why would I have to slow down for you? What does my success have anything to do with us?”

Shikamaru picked up on the change in tense and swallowed, hope welling up in that pit of despair in him. “Moving in together, marriage, kids, pets; all of those next steps require a big commitment and it didn’t seem like you had any time for any more commitments in your life.” He sighed and looked away, picking at a string on his jacket and reading book titles off the shelf instead of looking at Temari for his next words.

 _Vulnerability is good, it’s necessary_ , he reminded himself. “I already felt like I was falling behind you, ready for something that you didn’t want.”

Temari was quiet and Shikamaru risked a glance to catch her reaction. She seemed shocked, to say the least.

“You were…you were ready for more.” Shikamaru nodded. Her silence spoke more than any words. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

He didn’t follow her when she left the room, but debated whether or not he should just go ahead and put his shoes on again.

She didn’t give him time, though, because she reappeared as soon as she left, a newly lit fire in her eyes and no drink in her hand. Shikamaru gulped. “Uh—"

“And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, _talk to me about it_? All of those things you just listed, the next step up in a relationship – which does require two people’s input, actually – require _both_ people’s consent and commitment. But you were too busy crying over the fact that _you_ didn’t think I wanted it and that _you_ were ready and that and that _you_ were insecure that you didn't even realize that you were putting the _entire_ commitment on me?” She made a frustrated noise and ran her hands through her short hair. “You still don’t understand, do you?”

“I do,” Shikamaru interjected, hating how pleading his voice sounded.

Temari paced across the living room, not looking at him directly. “You say that you do, but everything that just came out of your mouth—”

“Were things that I felt in the past,” he said, standing up and walking over to face her. “Would I have walked all this way to beg for you to let me back in a month ago?”

“You didn’t need to a month ago,” she said, stubbornly avoiding the meaning of what he was trying to convey.

Shikamaru sighed, “Hypothetically, then.”

Temari’s eyes shifted to look him in the eyes. They were a lot closer than he had planned on being.

“No.” Shikamaru opened his mouth to continue his point, but Temari held up a hand to stop him. “But that doesn’t mean anything. Manipulation now to get what you want isn’t any indicator that you won’t just revert back to your line of thinking once you have it.”

Shikamaru decided the risk was worth it this time and took her hands in his, reveling in even the slightest contact. “But that wasn’t, isn’t, my line of thinking. I’ve always loved you for who you are; hell, _because_ of who you are. This past month has been…really awful. And I realize that I was being selfish and acting every part of the egotistical, stereotypically fragile male and not considering your side and—"

Temari put a finger to his lips and he struggled not to open his mouth regardless.

“I’m still angry, I need you to understand that.” Shikamaru nodded, her finger still in place. “But I know.”

“You know?” he asked uncertainly.

Temari sighed but also let out a small huff of laughter. Shikamaru was wary of what her sudden change in demeanor meant. “Yeah, Shikamaru. I know that you don’t actually want me to be some 1920s housewife." He let out a breath of relief. "And I know how difficult this month has been because it’s been difficult for me too.” His heart started thumping faster. She _knew_. “I was just waiting for you to realize it yourself. But that break-up, it was real,” she warned, “and if you ever start treating me like you did again, I will not hesitate to dump your ass again, and I definitely won’t be waiting for you again.”

Shikamaru felt a smile growing on his face. “Never again,” he promised.

Temari rolled her eyes and dragged him forward into her, and Shikamaru didn’t stop his hands from sinking into her hair as their lips met. He did, however, stop the groan that threatened to break through, thankfully. He was desperate, but he didn’t want to _act_ desperate.

The kiss turned into many kisses, and the many kisses turned into wandering hands and Shikamaru smirked because she obviously missed him too.

The act of standing was becoming too much, but just as Temari broke away and took his hand to lead him somewhere where standing wouldn’t be necessary, the door opened.

Temari hummed in annoyance and led them towards the entrance, right past her two brothers who barely blinked before glaring at him as he put his shoes on.

“Hey guys, we made up, we’re back together, and we’re going back to his house. Don’t wait up for me.”

Shikamaru laughed as Temari pulled him out the door. Things were right again.


End file.
